


2: Orlando, Florida

by Tor_88



Series: Misadventures of Crowley and Squirrel [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Deal, Dean Winchester Has Anger Issues, Demon Dean Winchester, Misadventures, Multi, karoake, theme park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tor_88/pseuds/Tor_88
Summary: With Sam on their tail, Dean decides to got somewhere Sam wouldn't expect him to go, a theme park. With Crowley along for the ride, Dean is beginning to embrace his new found freedom, but at what cost?





	2: Orlando, Florida

‘So this is Dean Winchester’s idea of fun?’ Crowley remarked as he glanced at the uninspiring scenery pass by them, ‘actually, it's rather fitting.’

Dean scowled over to Crowley, ‘This is my kind of fun when you are trying to hide.’

‘What exactly were you thinking when you thought coming here would be a good idea?’ Crowley sneered.

‘You told me you’d heard that Sam’s started looking for us, so I chose one of the many places he wouldn’t think to search.’ Dean answered, ‘practically taught him everything he knows….but not everything I know,’ he muttered to himself.

‘Orlando, where everyone is controlled by a fictional rat.’ Crowley stated as they approached the bold yellow and red welcome sign.

‘Its a mou… never mind’ Dean muttered.

‘I don’t know why you insist on driving around in this...Moose I’m here signal,’ Crowley sneered.

‘No one asked you to stick around,’ Dean snapped as they drove under the sign.

‘I’m invested!’ Crowley answered, ‘besides without me you would be nothing and dead …. you should be thanking me.’

Dean gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Crowley was right. For the first time ever, he didn’t feel the burden of responsibility, the constant guilt and self-hatred was beginning to fade; a new sense of freedom was taking its place.

This subtle change in Dean’s body language hadn’t gone unnoticed by Crowley as he curled the corner of his lip up, ‘Is someone still clinging on to what’s left of their empathy?’ he mocked.

‘Shut up, Crowley.’ Dean barked, loosening his grip on the wheel.

‘You know we could leave this hunk of junk here and be in Hawaii with a snap of my fingers.’ Crowley grumbled as Dean found a spot to park Baby in.

‘She’s a classic.’ Dean groaned.

Crowley raised his eyebrow, expecting a visceral response; he knew how overprotective he was. He looked over at Dean with suspicion.

After a pause Dean stated, ‘the answer’s no.’

***********************************************************

‘If I ever want to re-model Hell… Crowley stated, as he looked around his saccharine surroundings, ‘This is where I’d start.’ The bellowing of cheery music, the whoosh of rides and the happy screams of people resonated through the air. Fast food vendors tempting passers-by with the allure of tasty treats, sweet buttery popcorn, a rainbow of ice-creams concealed in their glass cases. People embracing their inner Henry 8th, ripping into turkey legs with their teeth. The ever-increasing queues, as people ran from ride to ride, their eyes sparkling, as they marvelled at each new sight. Crowley winced as he saw more and more of those oversized cartoon characters, whoring themselves out for attention.

Dean looked around in awe at what he saw. A memory flashed in his mind; John had promised them a trip to Happy-Fun-land when he was a kid, he couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old. Dean didn’t know he was hunting a banshee at the time and it was only later that Dean realised he had no real intention of taking him.

‘Look over there,’ Dean called as he pointed at the gaudy white and gold mock castle, complete with toy soldiers standing guard. ‘Man, I always wanted to go on that when I was a kid.’ A gleeful smile appeared as he joined the queue, ‘I thought if I came to this amusement park….I could be just a regular kid.’ He murmured not realising Crowley was close by.

‘Seriously?’ Crowley queried as they approached the front of the ride, ‘You expect me to go with you….on this?’ His brow crinkled. Was the King of Hell going to lower himself to this?

Dean’s smile quickly disappeared, he realised what he’d said, he slumped his shoulders slightly, before his bravado took over. ‘Come on Crowley,’ he smirked, ‘It’s like you said; whatever my dark heart desires.’ His smile got wider, ‘Besides look at what’s at the front of the line.’ He gestured over to the trio of pretty girls.

Dean barged his way through the line of people until he was within earshot of the girls. He curled his lip as he heard the girls speaking French. ‘Awesome,’ he uttered in a low tone.

‘Ah, thinking with our downstairs brain….classy’ Crowley remarked as he appeared beside him.

Dean, ignoring Crowley, winked at them and they returned a slow lingering wave back, ‘Come on Crowley, those lovely ladies might need us in case they get scared. Look we go around this…..'

‘And what you’ll swoop in and save them? From what? Some puppets? That was almost funny Squirrel ’ Crowley stated.

Sliding into the line in front of a soccer mom and three overweight kids and silencing the pimply attendant with a single glance, Dean tailed the girls onto the ride, Crowley following, a long suffering expression on his face.

‘It’s a wonderful wonderful world, it’s a wonderful wonderful world.’ The high pitched shrieking that seemed to pass for singing, rang out through the ride; getting increasingly distorted as the tune, coming from each room, overlapped. The brightly coloured paddle boats drifted through the 3 inches of water carrying row upon row of captivated tourists

Dean leant over his seat to the trio and began his smooth flirting routine. A cheeky wink here, a smouldering stare there; a routine he had spent years perfecting.

‘Just when I thought this couldn’t get any worse... It does,’ Crowley rolled his eyes.

As the ride began to meander through the Crowley winced as he had to witness the nauseating mating ritual of the trio giggling and cooing at Dean’s cheesy jokes. Crowley let out a long sigh as they moved into the next room which showed the story of the first Thanksgiving, ‘That’s not how I remember it,’ he sneered as one doll passed corn to another.

Fifteen minutes later the ride returned to the gleaming white dock, rows of people lifted the bars and climbed out of their boats. Broad smiles and happy chatter surrounded them as they left. As the trio’s turn came to leave, they each winked at Dean as they gave him their phone number.

‘Appelle-moi,’ the third cooed winking at Dean as she left.

Dean smirked as he watched them leave, ‘I don’t know what she said,’ he turned to Crowley, a cheeky smirk on his face, ‘But it sounded hot.’

‘Moron,’ Crowley uttered under his breath. As Crowley got off the boat he snapped his fingers before Dean had attempted to move.

Dean went to lift the bar up, but he was unable to. ‘Crowley… What did you do?’ He demanded, as he started to rattle the bar of the ride. ‘Why can’t I get off?’

‘If only you had a dollar for every time you’ve said that... hey, Squirrel? Besides now we’re even for my extended stay in your trunk,’ Crowley smirked.

‘You son of a bitch,’ Dean growled, shaking the bar so aggressively, his knuckles turning white from the force, that he ripped it out of the socket. A broad smile spread across his face as he glanced from the metal bar in his hand over to the smirking Crowley.

‘Exit stage Crowley,’ Crowley purred then vanished

‘Crowley,’ Dean growled as he launched the now liberated bar. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he watched it hurtle through the air and landed on one of the islands, causing a palm tree to topple, completely flatting the inhabitants. Dean grinned broadly as he watched the head of a blonde, pigtailed puppet bob as it floated past. He jumped out of the boat, the water rippling at the disturbance, and marched over to the next island, where the puppets were dancing along to their merry tune, grabbed the nearest one and, remorselessly, snapped it in half.

‘It’s not fair,’ Dean roared as he threw the shattered bits across the water. He felt his anger pulsate and began striking anything he could reach. Rage coursed through his bloodstream like a lethal poison as he tossed the remains of a tiki statue aside. The Mark pulsed on his arm, hungry for more destruction; Dean balled up his right fist and plunged it square into the face of a pale grey moose. His lip curled up as he watched it crumple unto itself under the impact of his fist, ‘That felt oddly satisfying,’ he thought, as he lifted it above his head and with all his strength, hurled it as far as he could.

Dean failed to notice the next boat of people turning the corner, expecting to see the cheery faces of the puppets. Instead they were met with Dean stomping on a plastic puppet head with his boots, grinning as he rotated his foot, grinding the head into the floor, while he held the body of another in his right hand and twisted the head off with the left.

Chaos quickly erupted as people scrambled out of boats and onto the dock, others were frantically paddling to get to the edge. Dean smirked as he saw the panic around him. The Mark revelled in it as Dean’s primeval instinct took over.

***********************************************************

‘Great, another hotbed of wretchedness.’ Crowley grumbled as he surveyed his surroundings. It had been a couple of hours since he'd left Dean at the amusement park, but decided he needed to keep track of his investment. The hum of patrons and music made the place sound like a hive of bees buzzing around. The bar stood along the back wall, taking centre stage, the perfect focal point, flooded with the deep red glow of the neon sign that hung above it, adding to its already skeevy vibe. The finishing tacky touch, for Crowley, was the outline of the sign; a naked lady riding an over sized cactus. ‘ A squirrel special; fancy.’

Crowley sat on the deep mahogany bar stool, as he did he saw Dean, leaning over the other side of the bar attempting to chat up the blonde, busty waitress. ‘Great, dinner and a show,’ he sneered.

The waitress headed over to her section, as she left her hips wiggled and Dean couldn’t resist staring at her perfectly round butt as he sipped his beer. ‘Oh yeah, she’s into me.’ He stated, his right lip curling up as he gestured for another. Whilst still watching the waitress, Dean effortlessly picked up the beer, he’d lost count how many he’d had, and began drinking it. The screen and karaoke machine in the far corner of the bar caught his attention.

‘Awesome,’ he muttered as he stood up, with his beer in his hand, and staggered over to the machine; a goofy grin forming as he thought of the perfect song to sing. Once he got on stage Dean swaggered over to the machine, scanned the track list, programmed the track in and positioned himself by the mic. The backing track started up, the people in the bar began to groan as they knew exactly what was coming; another drunk idiot thinking he was the next Bon Jovi.

‘Llloooovvvve shack,’Dean bellowed.

Crowley felt a small shudder tickle down his spine as he tried to ignore the tone deaf wailing that echoed through the bar. ‘What have you got that will drown out that racket?’ Crowley asked the bartender as he rolled his eyes.

Moments later he returned with a tall glass, filled with ice and a bright red mixture that got darker as the drink settled, complete with a slice of pineapple, which looked like it had been left out for a week. ‘One Rum Runner,’ the bartender said as he put the glass down, ‘guaranteed to knock out any sound.’

‘Cute,’ Crowley mocked as he twirled the bright pink flamingo swizzle stick, the corner of his lip curled up a little. He looked back to the bartender, ‘are you waiting for something?’ he queried gesturing him to leave.

‘We can get to-geth-er,’ Dean boomed, thrusting his hips forward and back in time to the beat. ‘Love shack baaaaaby,’ He grinned as he winked at the waitress, who awkwardly smiled back. ‘Love shack baby.’ He sang in a deeper tone, as he began to survey his surroundings for potential ladies to make a move on.

As Crowley sat there, he began to question his recent life choices. Was turning Dean into a Knight of Hell such a smart idea? Was the road trip a mistake? Would he ever see a 5 star hotel again? Suddenly his musings were interrupted by the arrival of a slim balding guy.

‘Evening, Jim, what can I get you?’ the bartender said as the guy sat down, a couple of stools away from Crowley.

‘Whisky…..make it a double.’ Jim lamented as he slouched his shoulders.

‘Starla left you again?’ The bartender asked as he put the drink in front of him.

‘She said I remind her of her father, apparently we have the same receding hairline.’

Crowley’s attention was suddenly pricked, ‘This moron looks ripe for a deal,’ he mused as he carefully listened for signs of weakness before he approached his potential target. ‘Trouble with the missus?’ Crowley purred, as he slid onto the barstool next to Jim.

‘Could say that’ Jim responded, his gaze fixed on the whisky filled tumbler.

‘What if I told you there was a way to get her back, that would require very little effort on your part?’ Crowley asked, raising his eyebrow a little as he studied Jim’s reaction.

‘Yeah...yeah,’ Jim replied not sounding convinced.

‘I’m serious, just say the word and I could give you hair that would make _L'Oréal_ models feel inadequate.’ Crowley responded with a devilish smile.

‘What's that gonna cost me?’ Jim asked, cynicism, in his voice.

‘Nothing up front…..You sign a simple little contract, and after 10 years...I get my payment!’ Crowley stated.

Before Jim was able to respond both he and Crowley were distracted by the increased booing and jeering that flooded the room. Crowley looked at Dean who seemed oblivious to his audience’s disapproval.

‘You're what?’ Dean called, throwing the mic out to the, very, small crowd expecting them to call back, ‘tin roof.’ But no response came.

‘You guys suck,’ Dean whined as he stretched out his arm and unceremoniously dropped the mic; the speakers screeched as it landed.

As he returned to the bar, Dean realised that Crowley was attempting to con a pathetic idiot out of his soul. He may be in possession of the Mark but it didn’t mean Crowley had free reign. Dean strode up to the pair saying, ‘Crowley, I told you...’ Dean paused as he gave the intended mark the once over, before smirking, ‘ No demon deals.’

‘Demon deal?’ Jim said, almost jumping out of his skin. He looked over at Crowley, who was trying his best fain innocence.

‘Demon deal?’ Crowley mocked, ‘think you need to switch to something softer.’

‘Come on Crowley, you have told him about the 10 years, Hell…..’ Before Dean could finish Jim left his seat quicker than a ghost in a salt factory. Dean looked over at Crowley a smug look framing his face.

‘You listen here mate...’ Crowley began before Dean cut him off.

‘First of all, I’m not your mate, and second, I only agreed to this because I don’t need Sam trying to fix me...I’m beyond fixing.’ Dean stated, his eyes narrowed before he reached out and grabbed Crowley’s tie, lunging him forward, ‘But I’m not going to watch you trick people into joining your merry band of demons.’

Dean released his grip forcing Crowley to fall back into his chair. He looked down at his tie. ‘Do you mind?’ Crowley said as he brushed out the wrinkle Dean’s hand had left, ‘This was a gift from Lucky Luciano.’ Crowley rolled his eyes, his name drop clearly didn’t have the desired effect.

‘...the New York gangster?’ He paused as the blank expression on Dean’s face hadn’t altered, ‘don’t you read?’

‘Sam did the research, I got laid,’ Dean growled as he got up and headed back over to the waitress.

*******************************************************

The bright Orlando sun filled the motel room, the mottling on the panelled walls forced the light to dance all around. As a beam of light shone into his face, Dean began to stir, grumbling as his precious sleep had been disturbed, not that he got much last night. The décor had a distinctly nautical feel, mock portholes for windows, striped navy and white carpet with matching drapes. The finishing touch was the headboard, which was the silhouette of the trademark rodent holding some form of steering wheel. Dean felt sick as he noticed all the fluffy cushions, comprising of the main characters from the latest movie franchise.

‘Good you're awake.’ Crowley called, as he sat in the cream leather armchair, stroking one of the fish shaped cushions.

‘Since when did you become Blofeld,’ Dean murmured as he got out of the bed.

‘My my, someone didn’t get their beauty sleep,’ Crowley snipped as he threw the cushion in the air, and with a snap of his fingers the thing caught fire and quickly burnt up into ash.

‘Shut up Crowley,’ Dean growled as he slipped on his distressed denim jeans.

‘Looks like your plan to fly under the radar has, as I expected, failed spectacularly,’ Crowley remarked.

‘Meaning?’ Dean asked, scanning the room for his T-shirt.

‘Meaning, some loose lipped demon may or may not have let Moose know where we were heading….’ Crowley paused, ‘suffice to say said Demon now has no lips and I’m pretty sure Sam is on his way here.’

It wasn’t long before Dean had thrown his duffle in the trunk and they were back on the road. ‘Where next?’ He said.

He waited for a few moments, but no answer came; ‘Crowley?’ Dean questioned as he turned to see Crowley holding the black and white spotted pinwheel, from the amusement park, out of the window, a small crinkle appeared in his nose as he watched it spin in the breeze. Dean turned back and mouthed, ‘what the hell?’ to himself. Suddenly he lurched his right arm over and ripped the pin-wheel out of Crowley’s hand. ‘You're the King of Hell, not a 5 year old.’ Dean callously stated before he tossed it out of the window, then reverted to watching the road.

‘Hey hey hey,’ Crowley whined, ‘I earned that.’

‘You literally stole it from a baby.’ Dean snapped.

‘He was at least four.’ Crowley said.

‘Bitch,’ Dean stated.

Crowley glanced over a puzzled expression on his face. Dean rolled his eyes,

‘You're supposed to say Jerk,’

‘Jerk?’ Crowley repeated, sounding unconvinced.

‘Moment’s gone.’ Dean lamented as he pressed play on the cassette player and continued up the highway trying to think of a new way to hide from Sam.


End file.
